


we can take it easy if you want me to

by stolemyslumber



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Porn, D/s themes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 20:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stolemyslumber/pseuds/stolemyslumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Four days and two phone calls later, Ray is at Recon for an audition. Nate had called it a screen test, like hiring Ray was a done deal. But Ray knows that no matter what Nate thinks, Brad still needs to be convinced.</i>
</p><p>Porn star AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	we can take it easy if you want me to

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [lakeeffectgirl](http://lakeeffectgirl.livejournal.com/) for beta-reading!
> 
> Title from the song “Gonna Be In Love” by Great Big Planes.
> 
> (Also, I have no idea how the porn industry actually works!)

*

 

It’s not that Ray’s unhappy, exactly. He makes pretty good money without spending too much time at the studio, and he doesn’t hate what he does. It’s more that he’s stuck. Stuck at Moto, stuck doing the same scenes and movies over and over again, because that’s what he’s known for.

But being stuck isn’t the end of the world. It’s not like he has to act like he’s enjoying it when he’s not. The opposite, even. Mostly they just want him to lay there and occasionally look up at the camera with big sad oh-please-you’re-hurting-me-eyes, the subtext being that he secretly enjoys it or wants it or deserves it or whatever.

Sometimes they want more, but it’s not like any of the connoisseurs on the Moto website care if the dialogue’s any good. They just want to hear the words. Ray has perfected the art of saying things like “yes, I’ll be a good bitch” or “hit me harder” while sounding ready to take a nap. Nobody seems to give a shit.

Ray’s gotten pretty good at playing the game. That’s why they pay him the big bucks.

That’s also why no one wants to hire him for any nice, vanilla, missionary position, and-then-everybody-comes-on-Ray’s-face-the-end scenes where he plays something normal like the pizza guy instead of something weird like the focus of a fraternity hazing ritual turned flogging party turned gangbang.

Ray is the pain kink guy. He’d try something new in a heartbeat, but no one wants to see that from him. Or maybe they do, but the people in charge at Moto Films don’t want to spend money on a less-than-sure bet. What’s the point of risking anything when you can just make _On Your Knees Slave #17_ instead?

Ray’s tried going to other studios. He’s not under contract with Moto, and he knows plenty of people in the business. He’s gotten some offers, but they’ve all been for the same kind of stuff he’s already tired of doing. It would just be the same old shit with a different color paint on the walls. Different hands hurting him in the same old ways.

The fact that Nate is taking a chance on him, that Nate wants him to come audition for Recon with _Brad Colbert_ of all people, is pretty much a miracle. Recon’s new, but it’s growing like crazy, and Brad is its star. Ray hasn’t seen his movies -- he doesn’t really watch porn anymore, and he definitely doesn’t watch porn he’d just end up wishing he was in -- but he’s been at the same parties as a couple of the guys who have been Brad’s co-stars. Someone inevitably asked them about Brad, and when they answered, Ray could almost see the stars in their eyes.

Even without Brad, Recon would seem a thousand times better than what Ray’s been doing. They cast people who actually like each other, and every scene is a single take. They don’t re-shoot the same thing from half a dozen angles or dub over fake moans in post-pro. They don’t even want their actors to act. It’s “real” porn, and if hit counts are anything to go by, everyone else has been waiting for something like Recon for almost as long as Ray has.

He’s still halfway convinced the universe is playing some sort of fucked up joke on him when he pulls up outside Recon Studios. He met Nate a week ago, at the party of someone they both knew. When Nate introduced himself, Ray figured he was just gravitating to the only other sober guy in the entire house. But they’d ended up talking until the party wound down around 2 a.m., about everything from the state of the industry to the Seahawks’ offensive line. Ray left the party with Nate’s business card in his back pocket.

Four days and two phone calls later, Ray is at Recon for an audition. Nate had called it a screen test, like hiring Ray was a done deal. But Ray knows that no matter what Nate thinks, Brad still needs to be convinced.

Before they put his first movie up on their site, Recon put up an intro clip for Brad. It was mostly fluff questions and a “tour” of Brad’s dressing room, but toward the end Brad basically called out Moto -- and everyone who worked there -- for making bullshit movies with artificial people, boring sex, and fake orgasms. Most of Moto flipped the fuck out, but Ray knows Brad is right. And that’s how he knows he’s miles from what Brad wants.

By the time Ray gets to Recon for his audition, he’s already talked himself out of and back into it half a dozen times. He has to psych himself up before he can even ring the buzzer on the door. Nate comes down to meet him, greeting him with a grin and an offer of coffee as they head up the stairs.

“Or maybe some water,” he says when he gets a good look at Ray. “C’mon, I set up a dressing room for you.”

Nate brings him a bottle of water and hangs a robe on a hook in the attached bathroom. “Do you want me to hang out while you get ready, or do you need a few minutes?” he asks.

Ray wants Nate to distract him right up until the second they start filming, but what he _needs_ is a few minutes to get himself ready for this. He must make some sort of apologetic face, because Nate just smiles and steps out into the hallway.

“We’re at the end of the hall,” Nate says, pointing farther into the building. “The door’s open, whenever you’re ready.”

 

Putting the robe on feels normal. It’s just like any other shoot, except for the part where he actually gives a shit what his director thinks, and the part where the thought of his co-star touching him makes Ray alternate between excitement and overwhelming panic. This is what he wants. And Brad is the only one left for him to convince. He’s not fucking ready for that challenge at all, but he’s out of time to freak out.

There’s a bed in the room at the end of the hall, but it’s empty. There’s some basic lighting set up, but most of the light is natural, from the tinted windows along one wall. Nate’s setting up his camera in the corner, and Brad is slouched in a chair against the far wall. He is unashamedly naked, stroking himself, and clearly thinking about something other than Ray to get himself hard. He’s looking at the wall behind Ray’s head with a bored, long-suffering look on his face that makes Ray want to hightail it back to his apartment and put on every piece of clothing he owns.

Ray hadn’t let himself even _think_ about the possibility of Brad wanting this. He’d figured Nate had looked at Brad with his eyes and talked in his trust-me-we’re-going-to-save-the-world voice until Brad reluctantly gave in. Ray doesn’t watch Recon movies for a reason -- he’ll only get let down if he lets his imagination get away with him, so it’s better not to even start. It’s better to focus on what he has in front of him and not think about anything else. And this is why. Because from the looks of him, just because Brad is sitting in this room doesn’t mean he’s going to like it.

Ray wants to leave. This is going to end badly. He should just turn around now, while he still has the chance. Before he fucks this up and proves Brad right.

He should try to believe he can find another way to unfuck his life. But it feels like this is it. This is his one chance to get something that he wants, for once. Ray’s not going to let it go without a fight.

Brad doesn’t have to like him. Brad can hate Ray with every fiber of his being, can judge him all he likes for the bullshit Ray got stuck doing at Moto. But Brad is going to love Ray’s mouth if Ray has to stay on his knees for days.

In the corner, Nate finishes fiddling with the camera.

“Whenever you’re ready, Ray,” he says softly.

Ray nods, shrugging off his robe and stepping forward. He hesitates halfway across the room, expecting Brad to say something. Brad’s in charge. He always is. He should be taking control of the scene right about now.

Instead, he raises an eyebrow, waiting. When Ray doesn’t move, he says, “Something wrong?”

There’s not a trace of worry in his voice, just impatience. What he’s _really_ saying is _get the fuck on with it already_.

Brad’s not going to be in charge. Ray isn’t worth that. That’s fine. If someone wants to let Ray have control of this for once, he’s not going to whine about it.

Ray takes the last couple steps forward and slides to his knees. Ray is going to _own_ this.

 _You are going to love my mouth_ , Ray thinks. _You are going to write songs about it. You are going to have_ dreams _about my mouth, and when you wake up with your sheets wet with come your very soul will ache at the realization that the dream was not real._

Brad shifts in the chair, spreading his legs further. Ray settles between them. Brad’s cock is thick, longer than average, and curves just slightly to the left. For a second Ray’s so overwhelmed with want that he can’t even breathe.

Above him, Brad sighs heavily.

 _Fuck you_ , Ray wants to say. _This is never going to happen again, so I am going to enjoy the fuck out of it and so are you._

Instead of talking, Ray leans in, nuzzling up Brad’s thigh, pressing his mouth to the soft crease of skin there and breathing in slowly. Fuck, he even _smells_ good.

He mouths the tender skin over Brad’s hipbone and then down, tongue flickering out against his inner thigh. He keeps expecting Brad to get frustrated, to say something cutting or just get up and leave. But Brad is silent, unresponsive. Ray closes his eyes and focuses the parts of Brad he can have.

Ray maps Brad’s skin with his mouth, tasting him, committing as much of him to memory as he can. Brad stays quiet. The only sounds are from Ray’s mouth and from Nate’s sneakers as he quietly moves closer with the camera.

Ray wants to keep going, to trace his mouth over whatever skin Brad will let him, but he wants Brad’s cock in his mouth even more. He starts at the base, moving up the shaft with soft, sucking kisses until he reaches the tip.

 _You will start wars for my mouth_ , Ray thinks as he wraps his lips around the head of Brad’s cock. _My mouth will be your Helen of Troy_.

Ray curls his tongue around the head, hollowing his cheeks as he moves down. He moves slowly, taking only the first couple inches into his mouth. He stays there, pressing his tongue against the underside, just feeling the way Brad fills his mouth. Ray pulls back, sucking on the head, flicking his tongue over the slit. He sucks Brad in again, taking more of him into his mouth.

As long as Brad will tolerate it, Ray is going to take his time. He goes down a little farther each time he takes Brad into his mouth, then pulls back and lingers there, kissing and sucking and licking around the tip. He can feel Brad’s thighs tense and relax against his bare shoulders. Brad is still quiet.

Finally, finally, Ray slides his lips down until he can feel Brad press against the back of his throat. He feels so full. But he can have more, he _gets_ to have more, and the thought drags a low, desperate noise from his throat.

Brad’s thighs tense again and he makes a soft noise, barely more than a breath. But it’s a good noise, like Ray is doing something right, and Ray can’t help but moan at the sound, at the knowledge that he’s the reason Brad made it. Brad’s cock twitches in his mouth, and Ray can taste precome over the back of his tongue. His own cock is achingly hard, but he ignores it, leaving his hands resting on his thighs.

Brad shifts a little in the chair, leaning forward a little. Ray pulls off, opening his eyes and taking in the sight of Brad’s cock, hard and wet with spit and precome. He swirls his tongue over the head, sucking it into his mouth and tonguing the slit. Brad moves his hands from where they’re crossed over his stomach to grip the arms of the chair.

Ray takes Brad into his mouth again, sliding down as far as before, then back up, ‘til his lips are wrapped around just the head. He keeps going this time, letting himself fall into a rhythm. Brad fills his mouth each time he moves down, a slick heat and sweet pressure at the back of his throat. He lets himself relax into it, taking in little breaths through his nose every time he pulls back.

Brad shifts abruptly, one hand sliding into Ray’s hair and pulling him off his cock. His grip isn’t tight enough to hurt, but Ray feels himself tensing before he even really registers that Brad’s moving, bracing himself for whatever comes next.

Above him, Brad goes still.

Ray tries to catch his breath. He tries to relax again, tries to show that he won’t fight it, whatever it is Brad wants to do. He wants to look up, to gauge the look on Brad’s face, but he’s frozen.

Brad’s fingers loosen in Ray’s hair. Ray squeezes his eyes shut, panting, not wanting to see Brad get up and walk out.

The chair creaks as Brad stands up. Ray feels toes nudge between his knees, Brad’s ankle brushing Ray’s thigh as Brad plants a foot between Ray’s legs. Ray can feel the heat of him moving closer. Brad still hasn’t moved his hand away.

Ray can barely breathe. He doesn’t know what the fuck is going on and he can’t bring himself to open his eyes and jesus christ, Brad is _touching_ him.

Brad smooths Ray’s hair back, hand sliding down to the nape of Ray’s neck before he lightly scrapes his nails up to the top of Ray’s head again. Ray feels a little shudder go through him at the feeling of Brad’s fingertips pressing into his scalp.

Brad cups the back of Ray’s head and pulls him forward gently. Ray lets himself be pulled. He licks his lips, expecting Brad’s cock to press against them. But Brad tips his head forward and keeps up the light pressure until Ray’s forehead presses against skin, the edge of bone curving against his nose. Brad’s hip, he thinks, and he wonders if he’s supposed to make his way back over to Brad’s cock.

Brad presses once more, a little harder, and then slides his hand back down to the back of Ray’s neck. Okay, so Ray is staying here. He can do that.

Both of Brad’s hands come up, carding through Ray’s hair, tracing the shells of his ears. He touches Ray’s jawline, his throat.

He touches Ray.

His hands are big and warm. He moves them slowly over Ray’s shoulders, down and up and back down again. Ray feels the knot of tension in his chest start to loosen. He lets his shoulders drop, breathing slowly against Brad’s hip. Brad’s hands keep moving while Ray’s breathing slows and steadies.

Brad slides his fingers back into Ray’s hair, but he tugs gently this time, pulling Ray away from him. He tilts Ray’s chin up with his other hand.

Ray swallows and opens his eyes. Brad is looking down at him. He looks almost worried, but Ray isn’t sure why. Brad’s eyes move over his face. Ray doesn’t know what he’s looking for, and he loses track of the thought when Brad’s thumb slides over his eyebrow.

Brad’s expression clears, and a little smile curves over his mouth. Ray smiles back, uncertain.

“Hey,” Brad says.

“Hi?” Ray still doesn’t know what the fuck is happening.

“How are your knees feeling, Ray?” Brad asks softly.

“‘m fine.”

Brad tugs Ray’s hair lightly. “That’s not what I asked you, Ray.”

 _Yes it is_ , Ray thinks, trying to figure out what the right answer might be.

Brad’s thumb traces over the curve of Ray’s lower lip.

“How do your knees feel?” he asks again. “Do they ache, do your muscles feel tight, do you feel a twinge when you move? How do they feel?”

Ray shifts his hips. “Um. A little stiff?”

A second later Brad’s wrapping an arm around Ray’s waist and lifting him up enough to slide something, a cushion or a pillow maybe, under Ray’s knees. He sets Ray back down, and then Ray feels the pillow dip when Brad moves closer again, planting his feet just outside Ray’s knees.

One of Brad’s hands smooths over Ray’s cheek. Ray leans into it. Brad’s other hand squeezes Ray’s shoulder.

“Put your hands behind your back,” Brad says, voice soft but firm.

Ray’s arms are crossed at the wrist at the small of his back before he even has time to think about it. Brad’s hand strokes down his upper arm and back up.

“That’s good, that’s perfect,” he murmurs.

Ray shivers a little, hearing Brad praise him in that calm, quiet voice. Brad’s hand sweeps across his shoulders and up to the nape of his neck again.

 

There’s an ache building in his jaw, but it seems distant, unimportant, nothing compared to the feel of Brad’s cock sliding over his tongue, of Brad’s fingers cupping his skull, anchoring him. Ray feels like he could stay like this forever, with just Brad’s cock and hands and the low noises of pleasure Brad’s making sustaining him.

Brad tilts Ray’s head back slightly, fingers sliding down over the curve of his throat. The angle changes just enough that on the next thrust, the head of Brad’s cock starts to slide down Ray’s throat.

Ray moans and opens himself up to it. Brad echoes his moan, hips stuttering.

Ray feels amazing, warm and safe, cradled between Brad’s hands and the careful, precise thrusts of his cock. He goes where Brad’s hands guide him, opening his mouth just a touch wider, tilting his head back a little more, until Brad is sliding down his throat with every slow thrust.

Ray can feel it now, the steady ache in his jaw, his shoulders, his thighs. It’s all a part of it now, part of opening himself up like this, part of giving Brad whatever he needs. It feels good and right and Ray lets it flow through him, the ache spreading out and fading away as quickly as he had felt it.

Brad’s hands cup his cheeks. His thumbs trace the soft skin under Ray’s eyes. Brad taps Ray’s eyelids lightly. Ray opens his eyes slowly, looking up, up, ‘til Brad’s face swims into view. His eyes are hot and dark, pupils blown wide. Brad’s gaze sweeps over Ray’s face, over his own hands on Ray’s cheeks, over the wet ‘o’ of Ray’s mouth, and then he’s looking back at Ray.

Ray doesn’t know what Brad’s seeing on his face -- he doesn’t have his walls up, the way he usually would during a shoot, but Ray honestly has no idea how to categorize what he’s feeling right now -- but whatever it is, it startles Brad a little. And then a look comes over Brad’s face, one that makes Ray feel even more things that don’t make any fucking sense at all, even as he tries to figure out what Brad might be thinking.

“Fuck,” Brad gasps. “ _Ray_.”

His thrusts grow uneven, and Ray stops focusing on anything but the way it feels. Brad’s hands start moving almost restlessly, smoothing Ray’s hair off his forehead, tracing his cheekbones and his jawline. Ray is so focused on Brad’s hands and the smooth slide of Brad’s cock between his lips that he’s almost startled when he feels Brad start to come.

Ray feels Brad start to spill against the back of his throat. Brad pulls back a little, and then Ray can taste him, hot over Ray’s tongue. Ray moans, swallowing.

Brad drops to his knees next to Ray, arms sliding around him. He pulls Ray in close, warm hands sliding over Ray’s back. Ray curls into him, catching his breath against Brad’s throat.

Ray feels fucking amazing. Like he’s floating somewhere, the ocean maybe, and the water’s calm and warm. He doesn’t have to go anywhere or do anything; he can just let the water hold him up.

Brad’s saying something, and Ray focuses in on his voice. Brad’s fingers stroke his arms, curling around his wrists.

“Can you give me your hands, Ray?”

It takes a second for Ray to figure out what he means. Brad can have whatever he wants. Ray’s hands, yeah, of course. He feels stuck, though, for a moment. He has to tell himself it’s okay to move.

He barely even feels the shift in his shoulders, but Brad’s saying, “yeah, that’s it, I’ve got you,” hands circling Ray’s wrists. He pulls them around, nice and slow, letting Ray’s arms hang at his sides. Brad slides his hands up and down Ray’s arms, touching every inch of skin, before his hands move to hold Ray’s wrists again. Ray watches him do it, watches his thumbs slide over the thin skin of his wrists, and breathes.

“You’re doing so well, Ray,” Brad says. Ray is so warm. Brad’s hands feel so good on his skin.

“Ray,” Brad says again, and it sounds like a command. Ray pulls his eyes away from Brad’s hands to focus on his face. Brad smiles. “Hey. You with me?”

Ray nods. Brad’s smile gets bigger. His eyes crinkle at the corners.

“I’m going to put your arms around my neck now, okay?”

Ray nods again. “Okay,” he says, and his voice comes out hoarse and whisper-quiet. It feels good to talk through the ache in his throat.

“Okay,” Brad murmurs, pulling Ray’s arms up slowly. He wraps Ray’s arms around his neck, and Ray curls his fingers over Brad’s shoulders. Once he’s settled, Brad’s hands move down his arms, over his back, down to his hips.

“I’m gonna help you sit down, alright Ray?”

He pulls Ray in closer, ‘til Ray can rest his head on Brad’s shoulder. His upper body is across Brad’s lap, but his knees are still on the cushion.

Brad tips him further sideways. He hooks a hand under one of Ray’s knees, shifting his leg out from under him gently. He stops after a moment, massaging Ray’s knee and then his calf. Ray can feel the tightness being coaxed out of his muscles. He knows it should hurt, that he’s been on his knees for a long time. But all he can feel are his muscles relaxing under Brad’s hands.

One of Ray’s legs is stretched out on the carpet before Ray thinks maybe he should be helping. He turns to look at where Brad’s trailing his fingertips over Ray’s thigh.

Brad’s hand stills, curving over the back of Ray’s knee.

“I’ve got you,” he says again. “Just relax, let me.”

Ray settles against Brad again.

Brad keeps going, moving Ray’s legs and hips in little increments until Ray’s turned to the side, legs stretched out in front of him. Brad shifts under him, moving to sit cross-legged before pulling Ray fully into his lap.

Brad reaches a hand down, touching Ray’s knee.

“Can you wiggle your toes for me?”

Ray has a passing thought that it’s a weird thing for Brad to ask for, but he wiggles his toes anyway, right foot and then left. Brad squeezes his knee.

“How’re you feeling? You feeling good?” Brad asks. He wraps one arm around Ray’s back, fingers skimming his ribs. The hand on Ray’s knee moves up to his stomach, Brad’s fingertips tracing over his hipbone on the way up.

Ray nods, making a happy noise against Brad’s shoulder.

Brad huffs out a little laugh, fingers sliding lower on Ray’s belly. “You’d stay just like this, wouldn’t you? Just me touching you like this, nothing more.”

“Hmm?” Ray manages. He doesn’t know if he can picture something more than this.

“I think I want to see you come, though,” Brad says softly. He traces a line down Ray’s cock with one finger.

Jesus fuck, Ray thinks, and he’d say it out loud if he could get his mouth to form words. He’s been hard since they started, but at some point it had just become a part of the warm, steady ache of his whole body. Now he can’t focus on anything but Brad’s hand on him. He feels his mouth open against Brad’s chest, his swollen lips pressing against Brad’s skin. Brad wraps a hand around him and Ray cries out, shuddering.

Brad eases him into it, stroking once from base to tip and back before stilling for a moment, then stroking again. Ray hears himself as if from far away, little whimpers and pleading noises spilling out of his mouth.

He’s close in what feels like seconds, right on the edge, Brad’s hands holding him back even as they urge him forward. Ray clutches at Brad’s shoulders, gasping. Brad’s grip grows firmer and his rhythm changes, strokes growing steady. Ray feels it all over himself, like Brad is touching him everywhere.

Ray’s mouth works for him again, suddenly, and he’s gasping out, “please, please,” against Brad’s skin, nearly sobbing with need, and Brad half-growls, “yeah, come on, want to see you come for me,” and Ray does.

He feels like he’s shaking out of his skin and out of Brad’s arms as he comes, but Brad holds him tight, stroking him through the last of his orgasm.

 

When Ray comes back to himself, he’s warm. That’s all that registers at first, just warmth, and then the feeling of Brad’s hands trailing slowly up and down his back. He’s on something soft, with blankets curled around him, and he’s cuddled up to Brad’s chest.

Ray shifts a little, stretching. Brad curls a hand around Ray’s hip - Ray’s wearing a soft pair of shorts, boxers maybe, but he can feel the heat of Brad’s skin through the fabric - and taps a little rhythm up his spine with the other.

Ray makes a questioning noise. Brad pulls back a little. His hand slides up Ray’s back and around him, ‘til he’s cupping Ray’s chin. He tilts Ray’s face up, thumb tapping Ray’s cheek. Ray opens his eyes.

“Hey,” Brad says, leaning in, and then Ray’s eyes are slipping closed again because Brad is kissing him. Ray’s mouth feels tender, but Brad’s gentle, kissing him soft and sweet and easy. Ray leans up, kissing him back, parting his lips a little in invitation. Brad licks into Ray’s mouth, tongue flicking against Ray’s.

Brad pulls back and then comes closer, teasing, kissing Ray and flicking his tongue over Ray’s lower lip before moving away again. He dips in again, tongue darting into Ray’s mouth and then disappearing. Ray chases him, nipping Brad’s lower lip, feeling sleepy and playful and good. Brad growls, tipping Ray’s mouth open further with his thumb and straight up taking over Ray’s mouth with his tongue and teeth.

By the time Brad pulls back, Ray is gasping. Brad is too, he realizes. Brad presses his forehead against Ray’s, grinning.

“Jesus,” Brad breathes, laughing. He presses a soft kiss to Ray’s mouth. “Hey, hey. How are you feeling? Your knees feel sore yet?”

Ray stretches out his legs, wiggling his toes again. His legs ache a little, like after you go for a hard run and you feel good, but you can tell how sore you’re gonna be the next day.

“Not yet.”

Brad nods. He kisses the corner of Ray’s mouth. “You need the bathroom?”

Ray shifts his hips, considering. “Nah, ‘m good.”

Another kiss, this one catching the curve of Ray’s lower lip. “You wanna go back to sleep?”

That suddenly sounds like the best fucking idea Ray’s ever heard, even better than kissing. Ray could close his eyes and stay wrapped up here for a while longer. Yeah, that sounds awesome. His mouth splits open in a big yawn just from thinking about it.

When he cracks his eyes back open, the corner of Brad’s mouth is quirked up in amusement.

“I will take that as a yes.”

Ray looks at Brad, feeling unsure again all of a sudden. “Is that okay?” he asks, because what if Brad doesn’t want to lounge around in bed with Ray? Ray’s probably supposed to be leaving now. He’d be gone already, if this were a normal shoot.

Brad’s eyes go all soft and almost sad for a second. He kisses Ray again, lingering, before pulling back slowly.

“It’s okay,” he says. His hand starts to trail up and down Ray’s back again. “Go to sleep, Ray.”

 

When Ray wakes up, he’s not sure where he is at first. It should freak him out, because he doesn’t even remember the last time he slept in a bed that wasn’t his own. But he feels more relaxed than he has in months, curled up against Brad’s side while Brad and Nate talk over him. Brad’s sitting up, and Ray’s got his face pressed into Brad’s stomach and one leg thrown over both of Brad’s. Brad’s running one hand up and down Ray’s back.

Brad’s hand comes up to curl around the back of Ray’s neck when Ray starts to move. He stretches his legs out all the way, pointing his toes. He’s definitely going to be sore tomorrow, from kneeling for so long. Right now, the stretch of his muscles just feels good.

“You awake?” Brad asks. His hand slides down to the small of Ray’s back, fingers dipping under the waistband of Ray’s shorts where they’ve ridden low on his hips.

“Mm, yeah,” Ray says. He turns his head so his cheek is against Brad’s stomach and arches up into the touch of Brad’s hand. The movement brings Brad’s fingers even closer to the swell of Ray’s ass.

Brad laughs, low and pleased. “Next time,” he says, drawing his fingers out and starting to pet Ray’s back again.

Ray rolls onto his side, looking up at Brad. “Promise?” he asks, teasing.

Brad leans down instead of playing along, eyes hot and serious. “I’m gonna fuck you next time,” he says. Ray couldn’t look away if he tried. “I’m gonna slick you up and have you ride me ‘til you come.”

Ray sucks in a breath. “Promise?” he says again, not teasing at all this time.

“I promise,” Brad says. Behind Ray, Nate clears his throat.

“Should I just go set up the camera now?” he asks, amused. “I was thinking we could talk about Ray’s contract first.”

Ray blinks. He hadn’t even thought about it, but “next time” means it’s official, doesn’t it? Brad watches him realize it, and the look on his face melts away into a grin. He glances over at Nate, then back to Ray. “Do you want to say it, or should I?” he asks, talking to Nate but looking at Ray.

“Go right ahead,” Nate says.

Brad leans down, pressing an upside-down kiss to Ray’s mouth. He pulls back just far enough to meet Ray’s eyes. “Welcome to Recon, Ray.”

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment here or [on Livejournal](http://saline-joy.livejournal.com/260098.html)!


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